Broken
by sasure
Summary: Sango is the soul survivor of a samurai village, and is out for revenge against Naraku, but she must first get past his guard, Miroku. SM
1. Prologue

Rain is good for the soul. As it falls, it can cleanse your soul, ease your mind, and even free your heart - if you allow it.

It did not, however, bring calamity to the lone wanderer silently passing through the village in the dead of the dark night.

The wanderer's footsteps in the puddles were drowned out by the sound of rain hitting the wooden roofs of the housetops, and the wanderer remained invisible through the mist and shadows. The clattering of armour was even disguised as rain came in contact with it's hand surface. No one saw the long, dark brown hair that slung to it, hoping to release it's moisture, or the dark, Siena brown eyes furrowed in thought of something fierce.

The woman left the village without a word, and her sandalled footsteps were soon erased by the small flooding.

She was wet; completely soaked through and then some, but she continued to walk on across the deserted plains northwards.

As the rain mixed with a single tear of anger, she released a lone name, executing it with her tone of hate.

"Naraku..."


	2. Chapter One: The Vagabond

A single sneeze escaped the vagabond's mouth as she covered her nose and mouth with her gloved hand.

She was wet, and now cold. Yet she continued to walk through the damp undergrowth of untamed trees.

Her tangled, damp hair clung to her forehead and neck as though it was something sticky, and the humidity made her sweat. Her brown eyes were heavy from exhaustion, but she would make it to the next village before she would allow herself to eat or rest.

Her muscles were sore from the abuse of walking continuously, while wearing the old fashioned armour that she had worn since the beginning of her travels. Her clothes were tattered, and also heavy from the night's previous soaking. Her sandalled feet were also wet, cold, and muddy, as well as blistered and sore.

A sigh escaped her chapped lips, then she ran her wet tongue against them, trying to return their moisture. Her left hand remained rested on the hilt of a large, sheathed katana that was tied to her belt, and her right hand pushed branches and bushes out of the way.

"Naraku," she whispered hoarsely.

Hearing herself mutter that name alone, fuelled her boy with rage and the energy to move faster through the wild forest. She would reach her destination soon, and only then, would she rest.

Water fell from the branches and leaves she pushed past, soaking her even more. Her pale skin was already soft and moist from the rain, but she didn't seem to care about it. Without warning, she stumbled, then tripped and crashed down into the undergrowth.

A single groan of disbelief escaped her mouth, as she removed herself from her personal mud implant. She couldn't believe her misfortune - everything seemed to be against her reaching her destination, especially Mother Nature.

"Why me?" she whispered as she brushed back her muddy and tangled, damp brown hair.

The cold wind rushed past the leaves towards the mouth, dropping more water atop of her head. "I know!" she screamed after the passing oracle, which howled through the trees in response, beckoning her forwards.

The vagabond sighed as she pressed her gloved hand to her sweaty forehead, but found it strange when she felt heat radiating through the brown leather.

She had a fever - which wasn't good.

Attempting to ignore it, she wiped the wet mud from her face, then continued walking. The immense heat rushing to her head stole her body warmth, making her shiver, and then sneeze once more as she walked.

She cursed her feeble female's body as she continued walking faster, crashing through bushes and stray branches, causing her freezing body to become weak and slow. Her muscles ached and begged her to stop her maddened course and rest, but she refused, she wouldn't allow herself to do that; yet.

She looked up, and saw beyond bushes and trees, the sight of a small village. She felt her heart skip a beat then she pressed onwards.

An hour later, she emerged from the forest, panting heavily and barely able to stand. Smoke rose from the outside of the houses, from pit fires or labouring. She heard the sound of oxen and people, and the sound of the wind whistling through the grass.

The vagabond only took a few steps, when she collapsed into the soft grass, she only remembered the contact before she fell further into darkness.

...

She heard whispering, but it wasn't the wind, it was voices, talking lowly in hopes that she wouldn't awaken by hearing them. Her heavy brown eyes seemed to refuse to open, then with a grunt of discomfort, she opened her eyes.

She found herself staring at the ceiling of wood, the scent of smoke aroused her senses, and she found the strength to sit up.

"You're awake." Came a woman's voice.

She looked to her right, and saw a young woman and a girl by a fire. The woman looked serene; past her onyx black eyes and her night black hair and the dark coloured smock she wore over a white robe.

"Who are you?" the vagabond whispered, almost in a hiss.

"My name is Kikyou, and this is my child imouto-ue, Kaede. Who are you to be a woman clad in samurai armour and armed?" she questioned.

"A survivor." She muttered venomously at this Kikyou person.

"From... ?" she continued to question.

The vagabond began to cough as she covered her mouth, only to realize that she wasn't wearing her gloves, or her armour for that matter. She wasn't even wearing the white robe she normally wore.

"Where are my garments?" she demanded in a hoarse voice.

Kikyou nodded to the far corner to her right. "Your armour and gloves are in the corner. Your robe was of no use anymore. It was blood-stained and tattered, and completely soaked." She told her.

"You dared not rid of it, did you, bitch?" she stood with a spiteful glare, allowing the covers to fall, revealing the strips of cloth that bound her large breasts and the loose, European-style undergarments.

"No. It is right here." Kikyou held it up, showing the thread that she was trying to mend it with. "With some luck, I may prevail to make it complete."

"Do not waste your time." She walked over, the then tore it from her grasp. She held the string up to her mouth, then broke it with her teeth.

"It will only fade more until there is nothing left." Kikyou informed her.

"Then it shall fade in course of battle." She seemed to run her fingers across the blood stains, almost trying to remember something. "And then my blood shall stain it... as dry in ways for my soul to reprise."

Kikyou stared at her hands, then grasped the wooden spoon at her side with her fingers, then she began to stir the contents brewing in the pot above the flames before her. "Who's blood stains your clothes, vagabond?" she looked to the child who suddenly spoke.

"Kaede." Kikyou's soft voice began slightly louder, and then child lowered her head.

"My haha-ue's... and chichi-ue's... as well as my child otouto-ue's blood now stain this robe." She whispered as her fingers gripped the whitest of the cloth. "They say that the way the blood stains clothes, shows how the being's soul had rested or haunted. If it dries dark then the soul is restless and shall wander the earth... yet if it dries faintly, then the soul had faded out from this world, and is now at peace."

"How had your family rested then, vagabond?" Kikyou asking as she continued to stir the contents of the pot.

"None will be at rest until I slay the one whom stole their lives." She hissed, remembering the traumatic events that haunted her memories and sub-conscious.

"What is your name, vagabond?" Kikyou looked at her, and although their eyes did not meet, it felt as though those onyx eyes bore into her wounded soul.

She looked up, and found her Siena pores locked onto hers. She licked her lips, then took a deep breath. "My name is Sango." She told her on her exhale. "And I am looking for a villain that goes by the name of Naraku."

"Naraku and his hoard or mercenaries?" Kikyou asked.

"Hai." Sango stood, then slid the fading robe on, she then walked over to the pile of her belongings, then pulled out a frayed robe, and then tied it around her waist, holding it there loosely, barely covering anything.

She pulled out dark trousers, then slid into them, then she wore lighter, baggy, white pants over those. She then picked up the heavy armour as though it weighed nothing, then she slid her arms under the shoulder pads, then wrapped the body shield around her chest and stomach. After it was secure, she then tied back her hair with a strip of the torn robe, then she put her gloves and slipper-like boots on, then her sandals, then she tied her katana to the red sash she tied around her waist.

"I shall take my leave now, you have my thanks for harbouring this samurai." She nodded, then walked towards the door.

"You should rest more, and fill your stomach, Sango-san." Kaede spoke up once more, although her elder sister spoke her name sternly, yielding her desist. "Although you are strong, even the emperor rests after travel."

Sango smiled lightly; "you remind me of my child otouto-ue, Kaede. However my journey has not ended, yet." She told her as she turned and looked upon her childish face.

"Does not the general rest after one battle, while planning towards the next in the war? Does not the farmer rest after he plants one field, before moving onto the next?" Kaede continued, until Kikyou's pale hand struck her across the face.

"Be silent, Kaede. Your voice has not been summoned to her appeasement." Her dark eyes became fierce with disapproval and disappointment.

"Gomen, Kikyou-nee-sama." She lowered her head, refusing to touch the abused flesh; only an infant would do that, and she would prove at least some sense of dignity.

Sango smiled faintly. "Hai, but I shall not be the one to badger you a moment longer. So I shall find shelter and food elsewhere." She told them, then turned to leave again.

"This is a place for anyone; even a thief, Sango-san. I am a hakushi, so you may rest, and feast until you are ready to depart." Kikyou told her, without making any eye contact as she began to serve the stewed rice into wooden bowls.

Sango's faint smile became a content sigh, then she lowered herself to her knees and sat beside Kaede, then was handed a full bowl.

She would not stay long - she had to hurry and meet Naraku's path sooner than later, and kill him. Only after his blood covered that of those of her white robe, would she be satisfied. Once the pure white became bathed in the crimson of his blood; she would rest finally, and eternally.


	3. Chapter Two: Chasing the Nightmares

Sango had been chasing her nightmares for as long as she could remember. Other than one past memory, she couldn't remember anything before she was ten-years-old.

Truth be told, she afraid to sleep, knowing that once her eyes closed, that one memory was the one thing that would haunt her mind by escaping from her subconscious. And until her Siena brown eyes opened, her mind would be trapped in a horrible nightmare.

"Sango-san, the sun sets bringing thieves." Kaede came forward, bowing in respect.

"Hai." Sango nodded. "I shall be along inside in a short moment. I only wish to breathe fresh air."

Kaede bowed once more, then silently pushed past the grass door inside the hut. Sango smiled lightly to herself, and her facial muscles ached with her sad attempt at the grimace. She rubbed her soft chin thoughtfully at the sore tissue, ever since she was little, it had always been hard to smile.

"Sango-san." Kikyou came forwards to her with her hands folded in front of her.

"Hai?" she asked, looking at the setting sun.

"Would you prefer a bath? The water is ready." She informed her.

"Arigatou." Sango sighed. "That would be nice." She nodded, then she grunted as she stood. She knew that her aching muscles were just beginning for her to relax in the hot water.

Kikyou showed her the thin tub, then she left the corner. Kaede and Kikyou both stared into the fading ashes of the fire as Sango removed her armour and clothes, then slipped into the steaming water.

She untied her hair as she leaned back against the wooden basin. She felt the clay that sealed the cracks between the slaps of bent wood against her spine, and the hard clay under her blistered feet.

Feeling the hot water soak through her pores and her skin become moist with the heated pleasure of satisfaction, she sighed heavenly as she brushed her hair back then lowered herself under the surface of the water.

She felt bubbles of compression brush against her face as they rose to the surface as she felt the hot water brush against the ends of her eyelids, trying to sneak through and invade her dark sight. Her mouth stayed slightly open, but the liquid did not go past her sealed teeth. The water clogged up her senses, and this relaxed her.

Knowing that her senses were vulnerable, that this peaceful tranquillity could end her life in a matter of moments, amazed this samurai. If she only stayed here, then she would go peacefully, even if her lungs seized and the pain from lack of oxygen burned deep within her chest, her senses would be dormant.

However, she had a purpose in this world, and she wouldn't leave it unfinished. She rose again to the surface, with her hands still resting on the top of her cranium. A sigh of relief escape her wet mouth as her senses started to return.

The heat of the water soon died as Sango rinsed her hair from the soapy suds gathered in the strands. The bar of hard soap that she practically tore her scalp away with rested there alongside the harsh bristled brush that she used to scrape away the dead skin along her body.

She still had her back to Kaede and Kikyou when she left the tub. She picked up her robe from the floor then wrapped it around her wet body. The thin fabric clung around her female curves as the water soaked through it. She looked down and saw as her hair wet it further, as water ran down her skin from the soaked strands.

She cursed under her breath as the fabric soon became heavy again, and started sliding down from her shoulders as it had been doing while she had been walking through the rain, with only her armour to keep it up.

"Here." Kikyou handed her a clean, pure white, and dry folded robe.

Sango smiled faintly then nodded her thanks as she took it. She removed her wet one, then replaced it with the cleaner, thicker and dryer one. This one was made of a strange fabric, it was irritating to her fresh skin, because she was not used to the fibres. She grimaced lightly, then she hung her white robe above the fading ashes.

Kikyou had lied down on her white futon and pulled up the covers up to her shoulders as Kaede had done previously. There was another futon off to the side, which was left for her usage. However, Sango never found a futon to be that comfortable, for multiple reasons. One - she was use to sleeping on the hard, cold ground; even through snow. Two - because it was a samurai tradition not to lay on a futon until their wedding night, and three - because of the previous reason, she never wanted to marry.

She sat down and leaned against the wall. She crossed her arms over her knees as she pulled them up to her chest. This was meant to protect her from whatever could come. Whatever might come in her dreams - if in reality she was in this position, she believed that her subconscious would hold this pose as well.

As she closed her eyes, her mind soon drifted out into the illusion of dreams as reality faded in the darkness.

...

_The dust never settled in the village of the samurai. The dry gound's earth easily broke loose under footsteps or even the wind. The wind brought the warning of something fierce, but everyone ignored it's heed. _

_Sango coughed in rejection to the dust that entered her mouth, and rubbed her irritated eyes. "Chichi-ue, there's dust in my eyes!" a small, young cry emerged from her mouth. _

Sango recognized this tone - it was her younger voice. She remembered this voice, filled with such innocence and youth.

_"Go inside, Sango." Her father spoke, his voice dry from dehydration. _

_Sango nodded, then ran up the wooden steps and found her younger brother leaning against the doorway, coughing in rejection to the dry air that damaged his weak lungs. _

_"Ane-ue, where's chichi-ue?" he murmured. _

_"He's outside, Kohaku. Where's haha-ue?" she asked. _

_"I'm right here, Sango." A tall, but young woman stepped forwards. She was dressed in a long white robe and her long, brown hair was tied back in a wet bun with her bangs and loose strands_ _hanging limply. _

_"Haha-ue." Sango rushed and hugged her around the waist. "The wind scares me..."_

_"There is nothing frightening about today's weather, Sango." Her mother attempted to soothe her by stroking her hair._

_Sango nodded as she gripped the damp fabric of her mother's robe. The fibres were partially moist from the woman's previous bath. _

Sango would never forget the feeling of wet fabric beneath her small hands, or the scent of her mother's freshly washed hair. __

_The sound of stampeding horses rumbled past the house, as well as the cries of people that tried to get away from the raging mammals. Sango was told to stay back with Kohaku, and then her mother went to the doorway. _

_However, no sooner had she gone to the doorway, did a large cloud of dust throw her back by the large gust of wind. As her mother fell to the ground, they found that it wasn't the wind that had befallen their mother, it was the sword implanted between her breasts. _

_As her mother's head fell back, white and lifeless, she heard Kohaku release a scream that shattered part the hearing in her left ear. Then as the dust settled, then the thick smell of smoke entered the house with the dark clouds. And soon following after the toxic fumes was the flickering of the red flames that had caused it. _

_Sango watched those flames as they danced around the dry, wooden hut, consuming it entirely. They reflected off of Kohaku's wet, brown eyes as tears ran down his dirty, chubby child-like cheeks as he looked on as their mother's body soon disappeared. _

_Kohaku screamed again as the flames soon then circled them. Sango scooped up her young brother in her arms, then she ran and dove through the wall of fire over the entrance, and their only exit. She felt herself fall outside of the flames with her closed eyes, then she rolled over several times, scrapping her elbows and knees and along her arms and legs and she crashed over rocks and hard, irritating grasses. _

_Suddenly, she was yanked up by the back of her kimono, as Kohaku slipped out of her arms with another scream that soon disappeared. As she opened her brown eyes, they were clouded with the water of her pupils that were drowned from the unseeingly smoke of the flames that had burned her eyes. _

_"Well, well. What have we got here?" a voice chuckled. _

_She looked around, but could see nothing except the shadows of the figures that surrounded her. They were chuckling and whispering, almost amazed that she existed. _

_"The otome of the Daishou Samurai, eh?" one chuckled. _

_Sango's vision began to clear as tears of irritation ran down her face - she wasn't scared; much. _

_Suddenly, the sound of a wild horse irrupted around them, as a white stallion emerged forwards. A shadowy figure appeared from atop of the horse, his eyes glowing bright red._

_"We've found the heir." One called out, then tossed Sango to the ground. _

_Sango didn't have the time to stand, until there was a sharp, excruciating pain in the middle of her back. All of her senses were dulled out as it began to grow, until her mind blotted out entirely from the pain._

_..._

Kikyou awoke in the night, hearing something shift in the darkness. She lit a small candle, then saw Sango in the corner. The vagabond was in a sitting position, with her arms brought up to her chest, almost protecting herself.

Judging by her current position, Kikyou knew she was asleep. Her hands were gripping her shoulders, as though trying to prevent something from coming. Her lowered head and tight position just begged for something to stop. It was almost screaming the desist of something horrible.

Kikyou sighed, then blew out the candle. She could not help her, she would awake on her own. If she dared disturb her subconscious, then Sango might react violently, as many did after awoken from their haunting nightmares.

...

Sango awoke with a long, frightening, yet relieved gasp as she raised her head and opened her eyes, wide with the fear that she would never awaken from her nightmare. She released her arms from her own grasp, then looked around at the darkened room. The light graze of the rising sun glinted through the cracks off the wall and through the grass door in front of her, causing her to sigh again. She knew daybreak was upon her, and that she should leave.

Sango stood silently. She stripped from her robe, then she returned her own white robe, and then all of her armour following.

She left just as the sun peaked over the distant hills of the horizon. The day was new and alive, and it gave her hope. With a faint smile, she anonymously left the solemn village and disappeared into the morning mist.


	4. Chapter Three: Hunting

The scent of camp can stay in the air for a long time. Not only does the smell of the fire's ashes stay, but as well as the scent of the camper's burried bowel remains; remains of food; even things absent mindedly left behind. Such as horse hair; there were several stray strands, obviously from grooming before departure. There were other coloured hairs too, but Sango was overly focussed on the white hair.

She remembered Naraku mounted upon a white stallion, although she hardly believed he would still ride the exact same horse, she claimed he would prefer to the same species of horse. Sango started a very small fire using some dried autumn leaves and small kindling, then lit the strands on fire, and watched them sizzle from the small flames that licked against them. From the way the strands burned, she could tell it was a male, but she did not know if it was the stallion he would ride into a massacre, or even if it was definitely's Naraku's horse - she could only assume so.

Among the camp's remains, she found an abandoned saucer used to drink sake with; there was even traces of dried sake left against it's steel surface. She tasted it to find how old it had been lying here; two days.

However, she still did not know if this camp was that of a hoard of mercenaries. It could have been a camp of soldiers, or even bandits. There was no guarantee it was a mercenaries' camp. They were all so similar, unlike that of a vagabond's.

A vagabond's camp would never be discovered. Not only would all traces be gone, but they would be somewhere difficult to find - such as the dense forest that surrounded the clearing. These camps she had been finding had been left brashly; without a care. A mercenary, or a soldier would not care if small remains were left behind; they would want to leave their mark.

But was this Naraku's camp? She would have to find the hoard first, then hunt down Naraku.

There were wagon tracks, and the ground was trampled flat by horse hooves and heavy boots. She hoped their trail would stay fresh, so she could follow and then find them.

Sango would have to hurry; if they were two days away she would have to travel without sleep. She would be on their trail until she found them. She would kill them, if needed, it wasn't a problem for her. She had been trained to kill if necessary. She knew how to defend herself and how to survive longer then the average soldier or mercenary-which would explain her current existence in this world.

A vagabond was one shock to the social climate, but a vagabond _woman_ was disgraceful. It was abandoning all family honour and stature. As if her family had any stature, but bystanders knew nothing of it.

Although she had only just recovered from slight hypothermia, she was perfectly healthy once again. Well rested, well nourished, and her strength had fully returned, although she reserved most of it for her future battle. Thus, she continued on her hunt.

When she came to a small village, Sango found that she would have to compromise her choice of path; she couldn't travel through a city by day. A city held the chance of spies; although a village did as well, there, she could easily act as a vagabond.

However, a city had more power; lords, officials, less farmers, and even the drunks had their fair share of powers in a city, and powerful people always asked questions. Even to a woman.

Sango circled around the city by travelling outside through the vast plains. She was more vulnerable out in the open, but out of fire-range and out of view from possible spies or look-outs. And she could manage her way in any surprise combat.

It took more time than she expected, however it would have taken more time by waiting for nightfall. By the next lonely day, the tracks had deepened. Sango was so close that she could taste them. Their scent was enough bait for her, for she found their camp by nightfall. The stench of their make-shift facilities, the horse dung, the unbathed mercenaries, and the sake was so strong, but it didn't faze Sango.

She remained perched on a limb of a large Sakura tree - who's blossoms had failed to bloom this year, for the buds were brown and dead - studying their actions. They obviously had no intention of a guard, else there would be one circling the camp.

The mercenaries were drinking and feasting on some beast they attacked in the forest. (Sango assumed it was a kuma - they were the only beast she had yet seen so big to feed an entire hoard.) There were dogs as well; they almost appeared wolf-like, however, Sango couldn't tell the different - they all smelled like a pack of wet mutts. There were several tents set up, some lit from the inside, and some were dark with the faint sound of snoring over the loud cheers.

Sango descended into the bushes silently. She slowly snuck swiftly behind one of the larger tents, and listened carefully.

"Kouga-sama, the others have returned." A tenor voice spoke clearly.

"Excellent, let them rest and we shall meet up with everyone else tomorrow." The baritone, known as Kouga, responded.

"Do you think it wise to trust Naraku?" the tenor questioned. "He has already eliminated so many races, even outside of the emperor's orders. He had taken even the samurai-guntai to the next world.

Sango found herself shaking her head at their guilability. Perhaps if they had verified it those eight years ago, perhaps it might be true.

"Nonsense, Ginta!" Kouga laughed. "The wolves shall not be so easily defeated as those bastards!"

Sango scowled and hissed lowly at his arrogant reply. How dare he speak of her kin in that manner!

A sudden bark from one of the mutts at her side made her gasp. He was brown and shaggy with red, almost demonic, eyes glowing by the firelight, with one of the many bones of the devoured beast in it's fanged jaws.

"Shh!" she hissed. She hesitantly went to stroke it's fur on it's head, but it sense her caution, and the bone fell and he barked again.

"What's with the pups?" Ginta asked.

"Probably a wild animal or something. Nothing to worry about, Ginta." Kouga muttered; the sound of ruffled silk and the creaking of a chair showed his relaxation.

The mutt barked again. Sango hissed, then she snatched the bone from the ground; "you want it?" she whispered. The mutt growled, then barked again. Taking that as a yes, Sango whipped it away, and the dog eagerly turned and ran after it, barking madly as though the bone was his very life.

Sango breathed in deeply, releaved at his departure, only to nearly jump out of her skin in disbelief as it began to howl loudly, then was soon joined in the chorus of the rest of the pack, howling in response. Sango cursed under her breath, then she ducked and covered her mouth.

"I'm going to check it out. I'll be right back, Kouga." Ginta spoke, then she heard him leave the tent.

Sango took in a deep breath as she gripped the hilt of her katana. She felt a small beat of anxious sweat trickle down her temple, and that feeling gave her power. She flicked the hilt away from the sheath, and with one swift movement, she withdrew her sword, sliced through the raw hide of the tent, then dove through.

She stumbled once she entered - was a warrior, not a dancer - her brown eyes met the oil lamps that lit the large closed area. She immediately, knowing she missed her target, and found Kouga sat upon a wooden chair draped in silk and pillow. He looked at her as though she was Naraku himself; exactly the reaction she wanted from him.

Reacting before he could, she lunged at him and grabbed him throat, forcing him against the back of the chair. He choked lightly at the sudden strangled breath, then clawed at her hand, trying to get her hand off of his neck. His nails tore at her wrist and hand, but she didn't seem to care, until he ripped through the sleeve of her robe. She then flipped her katana in her hand, then held it up against his Adam's apple.

"You... b-bitch..." Kouga sputtered in a dog-like hiss.

"Silence." She demanded in response in a cat-like hiss. "Where is Naraku?"

"N-nani?" he hissed as the blade cut through the skin and drew blood from his large throat.

"Where... is Naraku?" she said it slowly and clearly so there was no way he couldn't understand her, and if he asked again, she would just kill him.

"Naze..." he began, then she pressed the blade tighter into his flesh and gripped tighter.

"Just tell me!" she became irritated with his stalling, as she ignored his nail digging into her wrist.

"Naraku is in the Imperial City with the emperor... o-on business." He muttered uncomfortably. "What matters do you have to attend with him?"

Sango pulled back her sword, lightly him slightly, the tossed him back against the chair. She stood broadly before him, then brushed back her dry bangs; "please inform your successor that a surviving 'bastard' is out on the hunt." She said coldly with an emotionless stare, then head for the open doorway.

"Oh, one more thing." She stopped, then glanced back at Kouga.

"What?" he snarled, holding his hand against his neck, making sure it didn't bleed through.

Her brown eyes burned with the glare of revenge sparking in them. "Ask him if he remembers Koji." She told him, then merely walked out.

The celebrating mercenaries didn't even notice her leave the tent, then walk away from their camp, returning to the forest for her own celebration. However the wolves had continued to bark and howl, with Ginta's persistent scolding for them to desist.

Ginta returned to the tent, and gasped when he saw Kouga; bleeding from the neck. "Kouga-sama!" he rushed to his side and held him up. "What happened?" he asked in a panic.

"Just get Hakkaku..." he winced fiercely. "We leave at dawn."

Sango smirked proudly to herself as she lurked in the shadows of the mighty trees. She had now left her mark, and moved on. She would take her time to reach Naraku and the Imperial City, for she wanted him to worry, and become cautious.

"I'm coming, Naraku." Sango whispered deviously as the night wind brushed past, blowing her long bangs in front of her face.


End file.
